I hate 3d movies. I try to avoid them, but for one reason or another I find myself at a 3d screening two or three times a year. And every time I remember all the reasons I hate them. They are as follows.

1. Strains my eyes, gives me a headache.

When I settle down in a cool, dark room to enjoy a movie at the theater, I don’t want to have to do any more work than is necessary. Moving the muscles in your eyes that allow you change focus is work. Bottom line. If you want to look at something in the background, the ciliary muscle must change the shape of your lens. This constant focusing and re-focusing of the lens strains my eyes.

I also end up missing details. If the scene is fast-moving, there’s not enough time to change focus before the shot changes, and I miss the details that are out of focus. When I watch a movie, I want to set the focus of my eyes, let them relax, and not adjust the settings for 2 hours. Call me lazy, but all that straining gives me a headache.

2. Changes the color, darkens the image.

3d glasses darken the image on screen. Movie people are aware of this, and in turn brighten the image to compensate. This doesn’t always fix the problem. The most recent 3d movie I saw, Zootopia, had many dark scenes in which I struggled to make out the shapes and characters. Sometimes the brightness can be too bright and the image appears washed out.

The color can also be slightly altered. Zootopia is an animated movie, but I don’t remember it being particularly vibrant. The 3d glasses seemed to mute the color tones.

I’m not sure what could be done to fix these problems, nor do I really care, because 3d blows.

It’s cool for about 4 minutes (basically the length of the previews), then it’s annoying and I want to leave. 3d movies are a lame gimmick. I’m at a movie theater, not a Disney World attraction. Get rid of this garbage.

We’ve all heard of muscle memory, which appears to exist somewhat apart from the brain.

However there have been reports of people who’ve undergone organ transplants and acquired the traits of the organ donor.

“Claire Sylvia, a heart transplant recipient who received the organ from an 18-year-old male that died in a motorcycle accident, reported having a craving for beer and chicken nuggets after the surgery.”

If you think about it, intuitively it makes sense. But on another level it means that patterns of behavior are activated by more than your brain. It’s more than just the conscious part of you making the decisions.

This has serious implications concerning addiction. We all know about the neuroplasticity of the brain, and how synapses are formed to encourage repeat behavior of pleasurable activities.

But if a habit is also “etched” into your heart, or kidney, that means if you want to stop you’ll be struggling against your whole body.

An addiction doesn’t just live in the brain. It’s in your whole body.

All this to say that we (I) should have a greater appreciation for the difficulty of stopping an addictive habit.

It’s not just the “me” part of me craving that beer, it’s also my heart, my lungs, my stomach, and probably every other cell in the body.

You’re very practiced at drinking. You’ve done it for years and you know just how much to have to get that strong buzz without overdoing it.

You’re girlfriend on the other hand, is getting sloppy. She’s only had 2 drinks but you can see it in her voice and body. Her movements look clumsy. Instead of saying things, she exclaims them. She starts to pour herself another glass. Save both yourselves the embarrassment. Stop her.

You may think she can handle it. You’d be wrong.

You may think you should respect her decisions. Bitch, that’s a mistake.

She’s a grown ass adult. Who are you to say she’s had enough? You’re the man, that’s who.

Girls get drunk way faster than men. And they get way more dramatic too. You want her tipsy, not wasted. That’s like one and half drinks.

Sidenote: Alcohol is unhealthy and you shouldn’t drink it. I’ve been drinking everyday for the past 3 weeks. Time to shut this shit down.

It was more than just finding someone to bang. It was to find my wife. It was to find the mother of my children.

They say learn to enjoy the process.

I had fallen in love with the process so much I felt a pang of loss when I asked her to be my girlfriend. No more approaching. It was a loss to be sure. I was giving up a part of my life in exchange for all of hers.

I had practiced game and social skills for over 2 years. It had become such a habit: looking at a girl and evaluating her worthiness as a potential mate and then screwing up the courage to walk up and talk. With about 100 approaches under my belt, I would rate my cold approach skills at a D+. Just barely passable.

But now I was sad because I’ll never be as good as Tyler RSD, and I know I could have been. But then I realized why I had started this journey in the first place. It was so I could have abundance with women, and now I have it. Sure, it’s nothing like the pros, but still, it’s 100 times better than I ever thought possible.

Now it’s time to shift my priorities and refocus my energies. I’ll use the lessons I’ve learned to love my girlfriend and to build a life with her.

These are invaluable skills. I thank the Lord for the opportunities I’ve been given. And now I thank Him for her.

Two years ago I wouldn’t have been able to land her. Two years of growing and maturing and developing has made this possible.

No more searching. No more wondering if she’s out there. She’s right here. In front of me.

I know it doesn’t stop when you get married.

But for now, I guess I won the game.

The downside of learning game as Christian is no premarital sex. Every approach was with the intent to marry, not to lay. I’ve passed up quite a few good looking girls simply because I knew within a short time I would never marry them. Were I irreligious I would certainly use them and lose them, so I guess for their sake, it wasn’t all bad.

Tongue in cheek advice given by an office drone who misses his old ways. There might be something to that advice.

But me, I couldn’t not stop. I just couldn’t keep up anymore. Life was moving too fast. It was starting to take actual work to maintain that lifestyle. In the end, I didn’t have the strength to take one more step. By the grace of God, I was forced to drop my load.

The only times I was truly at peace, were acquiring the drug, talking about the drug, and then preparing and using the drug. But not actually being high. When I was high I would wish to be sober. And when I was sober I wanted to be high. When I finally was high I’d play video games to forget that I was high, only to be reminded again 90 minutes later that I wasn’t high anymore and needed another hit.

It was simply taking too much and giving too little in return. Being a drug user was so involving. I didn’t want a habit that required constant upkeep, maintenance, and supervision.

It was draining my soul. A daily diminishment. No rest to be found. I wanted to be lounging on a beach, or meditating in a forest, not frantically maintaining my chemical blood level.

Eventually it was my addiction that quit me. Of course I had to press the eject button. But by then I was safely away, watching the burning plane going down while being suspended in mid air by a parachute that was a new job, a new city, a new life. Another chance.